


Drift

by Sand



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 12:12:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2150289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sand/pseuds/Sand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The hardest part of drifting is being able to get into it with a new partner. It requires trust and a willingness to let your partner see all your secrets. Sometimes, that's not so bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drift

* * *

I take another swig from the bottle and try to focus on the slight form on my bunk. She’s got her own bottle, making good use of it.

Her dark eyes flicker to my face and she giggles nervously.

“You ready?” I ask her.

She swings her feet. She’s short enough that she doesn’t even reach the floor when she sits on the edge.

“Yeah,” Her accent strikes me as cute and sexy, as always. I reflexively try to push the thought away, then sigh and struggle to accept it. There’s no hiding in the Drift, and the things that trip you up are the things that you hide from yourself.

I cross my feet on the deck in front of me - absently noting that one of my boot laces has somehow come untied - and sit further back in the chair. I wet my lips.

“Okay,” I start, trying to think of a good question. “Tell me about your first time.”

I figure that hearing about how she got into piloting might be a good start.

She bites her lip in the dim light, not meeting my eyes. Finally, she sets the bottle down on the floor. I fight  the urge to look away to save her modesty as I can see down her top as she bends low to do it. The worst part of getting ready for Drift is making myself stop the little social niceties that my mother spent thirty years driving into me.

She swings her legs up and lays on my bunk. I can only see her hair and the curve of her bare shoulder as she sinks in. I like my bed absurdly soft. I open my mouth to prompt her when she starts to speak.

“I was fifteen.” I quirk an eyebrow. I know her father was also a pilot - he ran Garuda out of Sri Lanka with Gadhavi Vess until ‘24. Garuda went down to the Mark III that basically pulled Tangalle into the sea. Still, it seemed pretty young. She must have started on a plane that her dad had or something.

“My father worked with a young engineer named Sajith that I thought was very attractive, and he came over to talk, but everyone was out.” She sounds lost in thought. “It turns out that he was a virgin, too. We made love by the pool. It was really good.” My dawning realization finally clicks home. I start to hold up a hand to stop her, but she continues and I don’t want to interrupt.

No. That’s another lie. I’m interested. I want to hear what she has to say. And I’ll probably think about it a little later tonight. Fine, I'll think about it, no question.

“He was so sweet...just...fixated on my breasts. He touched and sucked on them for a half hour... I know now that he probably actually...” She trails off for a few moments and I move my chair so that I can see her face as she talks.

She lays on my bed with her head on my pillow, her eyes closed. As I watch, I notice her hands are running gently over her thighs below the hem of her shorts. I swallow hard and close my own eyes until I get control of my surging libido. As I do, she continues in a soft voice.

“I think he came in his pants when we were just kissing, and that’s how long it took him to get hard again.” She laughs fondly, no ridicule in her voice. I can't hold back a sound at that, luckily she was too involved in her own story to notice. Dammit. Fuck that’s hot. I never even thought about something like that before. Apparently, I really like the idea of a tender, giving, nurturing woman who doesn't mind the thought of making a poor virgin cum in his pants.

“I still love having my breasts worshipped...” Her hands slide up her sides and she plays with the bottom of her shirt between her fingers. “My nipples are so sensitive,”

I stop breathing as she runs the fingers of one hand up over the shirt and circle one erect nipple. She sighs dreamily and arches her back into her own touch. I make a small choking sound as I start to breathe again. She lazily opens her eyes and looks over at me and smiles.

“Do you like sucking on tits, Robert?” She asks gently, bringing her other hand up so that she’s toying with both breasts. I nod, my mouth dry, and shift in the chair to better accommodate my growing erection.

“Sara...” I’m not sure that this is a good idea.

“Come sit by me, Bobby. I won't touch you if you don't want me to.” She pats the bed next to her hip. As she meets my eyes, she pulls up her shirt, revealing her small bare tits with their tight, dark nipples. She gently rubs around one with a finger, her eyes drifting closed again. The corners of her mouth turn up in a smile.  “I want you to see. If I'm really lucky, maybe I can convince you to cum on my tits while I tell this story.”

I’m breathing quicker. I should go. Leaving is what I should be doing right now. I stay.

She opens her eyes again and one hand drifts to the snap on her shorts as the other continues to play with her nipples. “Come on, Bobby, please? Look - my nipples are not slippery at all...I don't suppose you have any spit for me to use? Or maybe some precum?” She lets out a small whimper as she pinches and twists.

I find myself on my feet before I make a decision. One stride to stand by the side of the bed. Her hair is fanned out beneath her head, silky and straight. Sara looks up at me, yearning.

“I'm sorry, Bobby. I know that I'm a slut... but nobody else knows. I come from a good family, it would embarrass them. I know you _have_ to know, that I can’t hide it from you. I hoped... that... you might be able to help me. That you might want me enough to not reject me. That maybe we could share something.” She runs a hand up my thigh over my pants. Suddenly she sits up.

“Bobby... I... I've only done anything a few times. I know that pilots have to share everything...even thoughts, desires, pasts...I was hoping that you'd help me keep this secret of mine. I’ll do anything you want, I promise.” She bites her lip and reaches for my hand. I sit on the edge of the bunk, looking at this sweet, unhibited goddess.

My other hand caresses her cheek.

“Sara,” I groan, “You have no idea. You're beautiful, wonderful, magical... I never would have guessed I had a chance at convincing you to go to even just a movie with me. Youre so straight-laced and professional...”  She turns her face into my hand, her soft lips pressing a kiss to my palm  that makes me shudder.

“Is this just the booze?” I look down at the bottle that she'd put on the floor. She shakes her head under my touch.

“No. I like you, Robert Silva. I worked hard to be able to be on a level where they might even consider pairing us together.” She lays back on the pillows again, guilt in her eyes. “I...bribed Alzeshi to put us together in the Sárkány.”

I leaned in and put a kiss on her cute nose. “No, you didn’t.”

“What do you mean?” She sits up again, looking worried.

“I saw the results. We're solidly in the 90s, no one else even close. We can go get your bribe back from that ass tomorrow.” I lean in. This time I kiss her on her lips. She gasps into my mouth, her hands clutching my shoulders as I press my chest to hers. Sara slowly moves against me, rubbing her bare nipples across the harsh fabric of my vest. She whimpers again, then breaks the kiss, breathing fast.

“Bobby, thank you for breaking the ice. I never would have gotten the courage if you hadn't asked that question.”

I shake my head. This was going to make a hell of a first date story.


End file.
